by Niv Kaplan
Faraj was nodding his head eagerly as Clair squeezed his hand and they moved out, leaving him standing by the pool.
They moved silently, Devlin in front, Rolston in back with the thermal imaging cameras. Clair and Ibrahim in Harley’s footsteps followed by Lizzy and Jimmy.
It was just past midnight. It had taken them two hours to cross the flatlands and another half hour to reach their objective.
They had plenty of time to make it back in the dark, but a mere ten minutes from the waterfall, the short wave radio suddenly squeaked to life.
It was Copeland and it meant trouble.
Throughout they maintained radio silence. Copeland could see their progress through the cameras via the video link. But he could only alert them via the radio.
“Zebra this is Echo. Stay put! Don’t leave Oasis. There’s a patrol coming your way, over.”
“Echo this is Zebra,” Harley replied, whispering. “Staying put until you advise, over and out.”
They scrambled back deeper into the canyon and began to hole up in dark niches. Harley took Ibrahim with him and sent Clair with Lizzy. They each found a hiding spot making sure they made eye contact with at least one of the troop.
Then they waited.
Three hours went by before they heard noises, faint at first then louder. Finally the Egyptian patrol showed up, like a glowing Christmas tree; flashlights, loud talk, weapon noises. Total recklessness. They were the landlords and were not shy advertising the fact; they could afford to ignore stealth.
They walked by the hiding flock, not particularly bothered about finding anyone, and continued deeper into the canyon.
Harley signaled Rolston to follow them, which he carefully did, keeping a fair distance, easily tracking them with the night-vision camera.
He counted five, all heavily armed with weapons, magazines, grenades, and he even spotted an infantry anti-tank missile on someone’s back. He followed them silently to the pool area where they made camp.
By the time Rolston reported back it was becoming light. Harley gathered everyone around him.
“Looks like we’ve missed our chance to cross,” he whispered disappointedly. “We’ll need to dig in.”
“It’ll be tricky,” Lizzy observed, “with these guys in here. We’ll need to stay alert until they leave.”
“Well, we’ll need to work fast if we want proper cover before it gets any lighter.” Harley noted. “Mike, you and Jimmy position yourselves on the other side of the brook facing the entrance. Lizzy, you and Malcolm find a place towards where the Egyptians are located and give us a heads up if anyone moves. Clair, you and Ibrahim stay with me.”
“Do we radio Copeland?” Devlin asked.
“No, he’ll work it out. Keep eye contact if you can. We use radio only in a colossal emergency. Grab some water and food before you dig in and don’t forget to turn off the cameras,” Harley instructed.
They all parted. Harley led Clair and Ibrahim to the canyon wall where they found a narrow slit in the rock behind some fig trees and bushes. The opening was just large enough for the three of them to fit in, if needed, but they remained hidden sitting behind the vegetation, as long as no immediate danger loomed.
“You sleep!” Harley ordered Clair and Ibrahim after they had each collected some figs and he had stooped over to the brook to fill up the canteens.
It was becoming distinctly light as Clair curled up with Ibrahim, her back perched on the canyon wall, Ibrahim’s head on her lap.
She studied Harley from the corner of her eye. He looked taut and sharp for a man who had been up trekking all night. Not a hint of slack in his conduct. He was alert; His look was rugged yet he calmly sat by, patiently managing the long and monotonous, nerve-wracking wait.
Later she felt him tugging at her shoulder and noticed his face close to hers gesturing for her to keep very still.
Something was happening.
She was not sure how long she’d slept, then noticed the sun high above them to the west. Ibrahim was still asleep on her lap.
Harley was crawling off on his stomach through the bush. Then the radio squeaked.
“They’ve got the Bedouin.” It was Lizzy, whispering. “They are coming our way.”
“Let them pass, then shoot them from the back. A bullet each to the head. Go Easy on the ammunition. Mike, if anyone gets through, you handle him. We owe the little fella. Copy?”
Devlin responded. “We’re ready.”
From their vantage point, elevated above the canyon floor, Lizzy and Rolston could watch the Egyptian troop camped around the pool, and had first noted the commotion seeing Faraj trying to elude the determined soldiers who had him cornered. When they finally caught him, they could only hear him howl, as the soldiers gave him a thrashing. Then they appeared marching him out like a sacred goat, his hands tied behind his back, his face smeared with blood, moving gingerly in front of the troop.
Lizzy and Rolston crawled into position. They slid down to the canyon floor, and took positions behind bowed palm trees stumps.
Lizzy understood Harley’s decision and supported it but knew the risks. Though they had the element of surprise, the engagement could turn destructive and the admirable initiative would backfire. If they simply let the patrol go through, they would be home free once darkness fell. The Egyptians had what they came looking for and would not look back. It was only a matter of hours before they could scoot safely through.
But Lizzy knew Harley’s primary motive was saving the little guy who had bravely aided them. He also suspected Harley worried that Faraj could be made to talk, expose the operation, bringing, if not for their capture, further embarrassing political ramifications, which someone, and quite possibly their sponsors, would need to answer to.
It was a close call. Faraj could have already squealed in which case the patrol had to be eliminated, but from the way the Egyptian procession progressed, Lizzy suspected he had not yet given them away. Actually Faraj should have had no knowledge they were still in the canyon. They had not seen him pass by and suspected he opted for some rest and recuperation before venturing on the difficult journey back to his people.
The procession appeared ten minutes later, Faraj in front, being pushed and shoved by gun butts, tiredly tripping over himself. When all five were in view, Lizzy and Rolston pulled the triggers. They had no silencers and the shots pierced the silence, reverberating through the canyon.
The front two dropped. The lead soldier fell flat on his face, blood oozing from his head. The second fell to his knees, looking around in disbelief; he made grabbing motions at an imaginary object then fell to the ground.
The remaining three jumped for cover but not before two others were also hit, falling to the ground. The remaining trooper found a ditch and began returning fire wildly. He offloaded a full AK-47 magazine before he had his throat slit by Harley who had jumped him from behind as soon as the magazine emptied.
Lizzy and Rolston leaped from behind their cover to join Harley who was verifying the kills, when one of the wounded jumped up and ran for the bushes, hurdling over the stunned Faraj, as he made his escape.
It was not long before a single shot rang out further down the canyon. Jimmy and Devlin had put an end to that futile attempt.
At first, the bewildered Faraj had remained standing, hands on his head expecting the worst. The canyon had suddenly exploded around him and he had to assume the shots were aimed at him. When he realized he was still alive he simply fell to the ground looking for cover. The entire exchange took less than a minute and Faraj just laid there, his head stuck in the ground, his eyes shut in silent prayer.
After his company left, he had gone back to sleep underneath the fig tree near the cave. When he awoke, he heard the familiar Egyptian dialect nearby. He would have managed to escape undetected but for an Egyptian trooper who had sidestepped to relieve himself. Faraj, who had crawled around the pool area, sprang up to dart when he nearly ran into him. Both were momentarily stunned
then the soldier, having left his gun back at the campsite, excitedly bellowed for help. Faraj doubled back and a chase began. It ended with Faraj being cornered in a narrow passageway that had no outlet. Reluctantly he raised his hands high above his head and put himself at the mercy of the vengeful soldiers.
They roughed him up and urged him to state his business. He maintained that he had stopped at the canyon on his way back home to Katarina from a business transaction and showed them his foreign currency notes, which were immediately confiscated.
He was trapped and he figured he was better off admitting to drug trafficking than to assisting wanted child kidnappers he knew half the military in the Sinai was looking for. Drug trafficking to Israel was a crime the military tended to overlook and some people considered it a duty.
The soldiers remained skeptical. They knew the tribes dealing in drugs, and the Tarrabin were not one of them. In the end they decided to take him in for further questioning.
Now they were all dead.
Faraj flashed his crooked smile at his saviors and gingerly stood up. He limped over to the bleeding corpse nearest to him and fished in his pockets coming up with his money and several other Egyptian notes. He then went from corpse to corpse and frisked them, kicking the last for good measure.
Harley had some decisions to make.
He took Faraj back to where Clair and Ibrahim waited, explained the state of affairs and ordered them to stay put until they discarded the bodies. Both were relieved to see Harley alive and immediately began to tend to Faraj’s wounds.
Then he and his mates dug five graves in a remote corner of the canyon and buried the five Egyptian soldiers along with their weapons and gear.
“We have three hours before we can leave,” Harley stated after they all had a chance to wash off the blood and the dust.
“Do we go for it now before someone shows up to investigate or do we wait it out?” He conferred with his men. “And we also need to decide about the Bedouin.”
“Chances of someone hearing the gun fight are slim,” Devlin pitched in. “To hear it, someone had to be close by and would have been here by now.”
“I second that,” Lizzy said. “I say we play it safe and wait for the dark.”
“It’s odd Copeland didn’t take action,” Rolston wondered out loud. “He must have heard the exchange.”
”I don’t think there’s reception this deep into the canyon.” Harley speculated, wondering about the same thing himself. “Lizzy, you and Jimmy advance a little toward the entrance; see if you can pick him up. Let him know what happened. If there’s anything out there, he’ll let us know.”
It was a nerve-wracking wait for the party before Lizzy and Jimmy came back. Harley had posted Devlin to watch one side and Rolston the other while he went to check on Faraj who had been cleaned and bandaged by Clair with Harley’s own first aid kit.
The Bedouin, cut and bruised, his left eye swollen shut, still managed his crooked smile when Harley approached.
“You should join us,” Harley said to him in Arabic.
Faraj looked confused.
“The Israelis will insert you back through Taba,” Harley offered.
“They will take me prisoner,” Faraj objected. “They will charge me for trespassing.”
“We’ll arrange it,” Harley promised.
“How will I go back then?” Faraj complained. “No documents. No ID.”
“Same way you come out. They’ll let you through the fence.”
“Word will get around. The Egyptians will charge me with spying and killing.”
It suddenly dawned on Harley that he could not afford to leave the Bedouin behind. He had to get him over the border, have the Israelis stash him away somewhere. If he were caught and spilled the beans, the incident could be blown out of proportion. It could turn into an ugly political brawl with him and his team right in the middle of it.
If the Bedouin refused he might have to eliminate him.
“Look Faraj,” Harley sighed. “You are in no shape to stay here on your own. You need medical attention and you need rest. Your chances of making it back to your people in this condition are not good. The shape you are in, chances are the Egyptians will catch you sooner than later. Your best bet is to come with us.”
Faraj hesitated and Harley could see the fear in his eyes. He had already ventured far from his natural habitat and did not wish to extend it. But he was quite severely injured and knew Harley talked sense.
He lowered his gaze and slumped to the ground. Harley took that for a yes.
“We’ll leave soon as it’s fully dark,” he said in English, addressing Clair, gesturing at Faraj. “Keep an eye on him. He’s coming with us.”
Lizzy and Jimmy showed up a little later. They had made contact with Copeland.
“Did you tell him about Jack?” Harley questioned.
“No, Sir,” Lizzy said. “We let him know of the scrap and that we were coming in tonight. We kept it short. They are expecting us. It’s obvious we can’t stay here another night and so far the route is clear.”
“OK then. The Bedouin is coming with us. We can’t leave him here. He’s a liability now. We’ll see if the Israelis can stash him out of harm’s way for a while. If the Egyptians ever get a hold of him and make him talk, we’ll be scrubbing floor tiles for the rest of our lives.”
Lizzy and Jimmy both grinned. The sun had by now completely disappeared beyond the cliffs to the west and dusk was slowly settling into darkness. The party moved soon after, Devlin taking point, turning on the thermal IR camera, Rolston doing the same in back.
It soon became apparent Faraj could not walk fast enough. He was limping heavily, slowing the troop down. They had reached the canyon entrance and were hovering by the waterfall, waiting for a signal to move.
Harley ordered Jimmy to unfold the stretcher.
As soon as the radio crackled, Copeland giving them the go-ahead, they set out across the open flatlands. Devlin in front, Clair and Ibrahim in his footsteps; the rest carrying Faraj on the stretcher.
They moved quickly across the open ground, exposed to the elements. Faraj was not much of a weight but they were bunched up alongside the stretcher, more vulnerable to detection and assault.
Devlin walked briskly in a straight line across the plain. Both Clair and Ibrahim had trouble keeping up and were forced to move at a slow jog. The men with the stretcher struggled silently. The night was moonless but the stars shone bright. The uneven terrain was sandy at some places and gritty at others.
Devlin was following a simple azimuth reading on his compass and was slightly adjusting his direction periodically. He was aware of the difficulty their untrained entourage were having and knew they could not manage the pace for too long. The stretcher would eventually put quite a strain on the trained men bearing it and they would need to stop and rest.
He hated the thought but had no alternative. Along their path were shallow dips in the ground they could hide in but closer to the fence was completely bare and if a random Egyptian patrol went by, they would be sitting ducks.
He kept the pace up for a while then stopped in a sandy ditch he hoped offered enough cover.
The stretcher was carefully laid on the ground and the weary troop propped on their backs to rest. Silently they drank water and tried to loosen up their strained limbs. Devlin crouched in front scanning the surroundings looking for any sign of movement. All was clear. He checked his watch and compass and estimated they were about half way. He was eager to continue but allowed the troop a little more rest intending to make it through on the next leg. He looked toward the Israeli border but could not make out the fence or anything else. The ridge on the Israeli side stood ghostly dark not offering any guidance points.
As he turned to look at the slumped troop, intending to urge them up, the radio cackled twice. It was Copeland and it meant they had company.
Devlin turned and once again surveyed the area detecting a slow moving vehicle traveling
north to south at about where he thought the border fence was placed - an Egyptian patrol which, according to Kessler, had a habit of randomly stopping and making camp for the night. He could only pray they would not.
It was the better part of an hour before the patrol disappeared to the south. It had made numerous stops along the fence, each causing them more anxiety than the previous. According to his compass, Devlin thought they had paid special attention to the gate, where they were intending to pass, but was too far out to be certain.
Jittery but well-rested the troop set out once again. Devlin set a murderous pace causing Ibrahim to stumble and fall more than once. Devlin could hear his comrades straining under the stretcher but their progress encouraged him. He could finally see the fence with his thermal camera.
The most hazardous part of the journey lay just ahead of them. He gave a signal to stop and crouch as he surveyed the final half-kilometer, a sandy, flat expanse that stretched perpendicular along the fence on both sides of the border. He took his time, making sure they were on track to the gate. Slowly he surveyed the path, wondering about land mines and other nasty obstacles. Kessler had assured them no mines existed on account of the established treaty being a major reason hooker and drug smugglers had space to operate.
As he thoroughly inspected the fence he noticed a blinking red light pointing his way. Focusing on the red dot he realized it must be marking the gate. Someone was out there, signaling to them. With no time to consult Harley who was with the stretcher, he made his decision.
Rising up, the troop behind him, he led them the final five hundred meters to safety.
PART TWO
REVELATION
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The rat poked its head through the crack, studying Jack’s can of beans with interest. Its pink ears were flapping and its dark eyes were darting around incessantly as it carefully examined the surroundings, inching its way toward the food.